


call me pretty names, baby

by kinneyb



Series: first times [18]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22942636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: “You called me baby,” he breathed.Geralt sighed and pressed his forehead against the sweat-slick skin of Jaskier’s shoulder. “And?”“And?” he parroted in disbelief. “I want you do it again and again, and like never stop.”/Geralt calls Jaskier something new in the heat of the moment. Chaos ensues.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: first times [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579837
Comments: 29
Kudos: 1515





	call me pretty names, baby

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a while! i hope u guys enjoy this update <3 ur support will always mean the world to me - if u have any suggestions for other "first times" (or similar) just let me know in the comments 
> 
> twitter: queermight  
> tumblr: korrmin

Geralt gripped Jaskier by the hips, tugging him down, closer, until they were grinding together with each breath they took. He licked into his mouth and Jaskier mewled, one of Geralt’s favorite sounds in the world. But Yennefer and Cirilla were right next door so, sadly, he nipped at his bottom lip and said, “Quiet down, baby - ”

And, for a moment, the world stopped moving. 

Jaskier pulled back, wide-eyed and almost laughing. Not _at_ him. Or at least Geralt hoped it wasn’t at him. 

“Did you just - ”

Geralt growled, low in his throat, and pushed up, grinding their cocks together through their underclothes. Jaskier let out a soft gasp, and he smirked, thinking Jaskier would let it go but of course not. Jaskier was the fucking _worst_.

“You called me _baby_ ,” he breathed.

Geralt sighed and pressed his forehead against the sweat-slick skin of Jaskier’s shoulder. “And?”

“ _And?_ ” he parroted in disbelief. “I want you do it again and again, and like never stop.”

Geralt pulled back, an odd tilt to his lips. Weirdly, this was a bigger step for him than even _I love you._ It just wasn’t a thing he did, not for Yennefer, not for anybody. Jaskier stared down at him with dark, wanting eyes and he swallowed thickly.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” he asked, testing the word out on his tongue again, and they’d been experimenting a lot with dirty talk so the question itself wasn’t all that surprising but Jaskier shuddered like he’d just been hit with electricity anyway. 

He leaned down and kissed Geralt, hard, their teeth clanking together painfully. Geralt did not mind one bit. He reached down and pushed Jaskier’s underclothes down his hips, down his thighs. Jaskier shifted, ungracefully, and kicked them off his feet.

“You next,” he whispered against his jaw.

Geralt smiled and arched his hips off the bed. Jaskier helped him get them down and off, tossing them to the floor carelessly. Naked, they pressed back together again, no barriers in the way. Just skin to skin. Geralt groaned like it’d been punched out of him and reached for Jaskier’s leaking cock, wrapping his fingers around it.

“I’ve been thinking,” he breathed in his ear, “I want _you_ to fuck _me_.”

It wasn’t something they’d discussed but it’d been weighing on Geralt’s mind for a few weeks. He’d had sex with many women, many men, but he’d never been on the bottom with a man. Mostly because he’d never been with a man he trusted. Until Jaskier.

Jaskier let out a sharp breath. “S - seriously?” he asked, jerking his hips, fucking himself with Geralt’s fist.

“If you want that,” he said, a little more serious. They had discussed boundaries, and how important they were to each other. 

Jaskier laughed, sharp and high-pitched, and Geralt forget entirely about Cirilla, too focused on the beauty of a man on top of him. “I - I want that,” he assured him quickly, breathy. “Just, um. Maybe, uh, later? Because - ” he leaned down, rubbing their noses together “ - right now I want your cock in me and I want you to call me every sweet name you can think of.”

It shouldn’t have been so sexy but it took Geralt’s breath away. He swallowed thickly. “Okay. I can do that.”

Jaskier grinned, nipping at his jaw. “Hmm, I _know_ you can,” he breathed, always the optimist. 

Flipping them over, Jaskier giggling underneath him, Geralt reached in the stand by the bed and dug around for the oil. He found it and popped the lid open. Normally, he took his sweet time preparing Jaskier but right now they were both too worked up for that.

 _Later_ , he thought.

He poured a generous amount of oil in the palm of his hand and stroked himself. Jaskier squirmed impatiently. He was as impatient in bed as he was out of it. 

“Shh,” he said, lining himself up and slowly entering him, inch by inch. He had to be especially slow, considering they hadn’t prepped him properly but Jaskier didn’t seem too bothered by it.

He moaned, fingernails digging into Geralt’s back. He really needed to trim them, he thought idly, before he sunk in all the way and suddenly he was thinking nothing but Jaskier, Jaskier, _Julian_.

Geralt buried his face in Jaskier’s hair. He could feel him, tight and hot. He could smell him, oak and honey. He could taste him, too, as he ducked down and licked at his neck.

“Ger - ” he said, “bite me.”

Because _that_ was one of Jaskier’s things, always asking for it. Geralt smirked, kissed his neck.

“ _Geralt_ ,” he whined.

Laughing softly, he nosed at his jaw before giving him what he asked for; he bit down, hard, where his neck and shoulder met. Jaskier almost sobbed, throwing his head back and clenching, tight, around Geralt’s cock. That was almost too much for him, but he resisted, knowing Jaskier wanted other things for him, too.

He lapped at the mark he left, soothing the pain. “You liked that, baby?”

The word felt weird, unnatural, coming out of his mouth but it was so worth it when Jaskier sobbed again, clawing at his back like a wild animal. “Yes, yes, _yes_.”

“What else do you want,” he asked as he nipped at his bottom lip, “ _sweetheart_?”

Jaskier gasped, shivering underneath Geralt. “Please, keep talking,” he begged. “Don’t stop.”

Geralt was not much of a talker, everybody knew that, but he would make an exception for Jaskier. He would always make an exception for Jaskier. He leaned down, kissing him, brief and messy. When he pulled back, a string of saliva connected them at the mouth.

It was so insanely dirty and Geralt loved every bit of it. “Come on, darling,” he purred. He wasn’t even sure what he was asking for. 

Didn’t matter; Jaskier sobbed, arching his hips off the bed and squeezing, tight, around Geralt’s cock again. “Fuck me,” he begged. “ _Harder_.”

Geralt gripped his hips, hard, and started fucking him, hard and unforgiving. In any other setting, Geralt had one goal at all times: _protect Jaskier,_ keep him safe from any and all harm. The only exception was in bed, mostly because it was what Jaskier wanted but Geralt was not complaining.

Not even a little bit. He enjoyed every second of it.

Geralt could tell when Jaskier was toeing the line and he reached down, wrapping his fingers around his cock. He leaned down and nosed at his cheek. “Come on, baby.” They both knew what he was asking for now. “Let me feel you come on my cock.”

Jaskier let out a sharp sob that the whole fucking inn probably heard and clenched, tight, around Geralt’s cock, toes curling. Geralt groaned, burying his face in Jaskier’s hair, and he followed him seconds later, filling Jaskier up.

For a second, they just laid together, sweaty and exhausted. Geralt rolled off eventually and Jaskier turned, facing him, tucking his hands under his head. Jaskier was the only person he knew who could go from fucking adorable to unbelievably sexy in two seconds flat.

Jaskier smiled, small but bright. Geralt leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips.

“We should really do something about… you know,” Jaskier said, gesturing at his stomach, eyes twinkling. 

Geralt shrugged and tugged him closer. “In the morning.”

“Oh, we’re _so_ going to regret this decision,” he said, light and teasing but he pointedly did not pull away.

In the morning, they washed off together. The tub at the inn was too small, but it was okay. Jaskier sat on the edge of it and washed Geralt’s back, and then they switched places and Geralt washed Jaskier’s hair. It was wildly _domestic_ of them and Geralt found himself enjoying every second. It was weird, sometimes, when he stepped back and saw what he had, how he felt. 

He never thought he could have this, _never_. But then Jaskier had showed up and changed everything.

“Ready to face the consequences of our actions?” Jaskier said, breaking him out of his thoughts. He was drying his hair, looking impossibly young in the yellow candlelight. 

Geralt stepped forward and tilted his head, confused. “What do you - ” Then he remembered Jaskier sobbing last night at the top of his lungs and he cringed. “ _Fuck_.”

Jaskier grinned, taking his hand and slotting their fingers together. “Yennefer wouldn’t kill _both_ of us, right?” Geralt raised an eyebrow, silent, and Jaskier grimaced. “Okay, point taken.”

Yennefer was standing in the hall, waiting for them. She glared daggers at both of them for a solid two seconds before the corners of her mouth quirked in amusement. “Listen,” she said, “if it was just me, I’d say go for it. I enjoy a good show, but _Cirilla_ shares a room with me. So.”

She stomped over and smacked Jaskier on the back of his head. She smacked Geralt across the face.

“Okay,” Geralt said, but Jaskier could see the beginning of a smile on his face, too. “That’s just not fair.”

Yennefer shrugged primly. “ _You_ can take it.” She patted Jaskier’s head with a grin. “Our little human can’t.”

Geralt grew stiff, watching Jaskier. But Jaskier just smiled, sweet, and reached for Geralt’s hand, squeezing. Geralt relaxed, squeezing back.

“Now,” Yennefer said, clapping her hands together, “Ciri is waiting for us outside. Chop, chop, boys.”

They walked through the woods to their usual spot for training, a clearing they had found when they arrived a week earlier. Cirilla looked at them oddly during the walk but shrugged by the time they arrived, seemingly over it. Geralt thanked whatever Gods existed because that was _not_ a conversation he wanted to have.

Jaskier, as per usual, just sat on a rock and watched, scribbling on parchment with ink.

Geralt trained with Cirilla for a couple hours before Yennefer took over. He walked over and joined Jaskier. He glimpsed at the parchment and smiled, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Baby, sweetheart, darling,” he quoted. “Wonder where _that_ particular inspiration came from.”

Jaskier looked at him with a toothy grin. “Hmm, I do wonder.”

Leaning over, he kissed him, soft and brief. Jaskier hummed, content, and rubbed their noses together.

“ _Jaskier_ ,” Cirilla said, stomping her foot. “Train with me. Those two old farts get tired _way_ too easily.”

He pulled away and glanced at Yennefer, who was sitting on a rock. She just shrugged, taking a sip of water. Smiling, he stood up and walked over. He was far from as talented or strong as Geralt or Yennefer, but he had picked up a few tricks from Geralt, who had continued to teach him moves, with and without his dagger, in case of an emergency, saying he couldn’t relax unless he knew Jaskier could defend himself.

Yennefer clapped when Jaskier pinned Cirilla against his chest. She pulled away with a frown.

“Oh, you better watch your back, bard,” she said. “I’m taking you _down_.”

Jaskier grinned. “Come on, little girl,” he taunted, all in good fun. He crouched down, mimicking the fighting stance Geralt had taught him months ago. 

Cirilla snorted and threw herself at him. She smartly used her height to her advantage, ducking under his arms and kicking the back of his leg. Jaskier gasped and fell to the ground with a _thud_ , staring at the sky. He heard Geralt, the worrywart, asking if he was okay.

Before he knew it, Geralt was hovering over him. He offended a hand, and Jaskier took it.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked, and they both froze at the exact same time. “I mean - ”

Cirilla made a gagging noise, sticking her finger down her throat, and Yennefer - bless her, for once - actually pulled her back with a shush. Jaskier found himself laughing, unable to stop, and Geralt joined him seconds later.

“Sorry,” Jaskier said, grabbing Geralt’s hand and squeezing. “I really _do_ adore you calling me that.” He brushed his thumb over the back of Geralt’s hand, over a small scar. “It’s just - I don’t know, I didn’t think you’d say it… outside of the bedroom,” he admitted sheepishly, and Geralt smiled. Well, he smirked but Jaskier counted them as the same thing.

“Honestly, I didn’t even mean to say it,” he confessed. “Just… kind of slipped out.”

Jaskier laughed again, light and airy, and tugged him closer. Geralt loosely wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s waist. “So,” Jaskier said, eyes twinkling. “Should that be, like, a _thing_ now?” He bit his lip, brushing his fingertips up Geralt’s neck, over his jaw. “Baby, sweetheart, _darling_?”

“I don’t know,” Geralt said. “Might not have a choice,” he added, honest as ever. “I don’t think we can keep them strictly to the bedroom.”

Jaskier leaned forward and gently brushed their lips together. “Do you _mind?_ ” he asked softly. “Because if you do, we can stop. Altogether.”

Geralt hummed, genuinely thinking, rubbing his hands up and down Jaskier’s back. “I don’t,” he decided finally, meaning it, and Jaskier pulled back in shock.

“Really?” he asked in disbelief. “I mean, I’m _very_ glad to hear that,” he continued quickly. “I just… didn’t expect it.” 

Geralt shrugged. “I was never necessarily _against_ them to begin with,” he admitted. “I’d just never used them, never saw the point. No partner had ever asked.” He smiled. It wasn’t a smirk, but a _real_ smile that made Jaskier want to kiss him for hours and never stop, not even for air. “Like in most areas,” he said, a bit teasing, as he pulled Jaskier closer, their bodies pressing together, “you are a first for me.”

“Okay, boys,” Yennefer called from a few feet away, loud and clear. Cirilla was tucked under her arm. “We’ve waited long enough. Finish it up.”

Jaskier leaned his forehead against Geralt’s shoulder, laughing. “Seems like we’re needed.”

Geralt pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Jaskier always found that devastatingly romantic. “Never needed,” he said pointedly. “They can take care of themselves. At most, we’re _wanted_ ,” he said with an amused quirk to his lips.

“Hmm,” he said, rubbing their noses together. “Good poi - ”

“Okay, _seriously?_ ” Yennefer said, sighing, and they both started to laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> interested in supporting me & my fics? check the link below! 
> 
> https://korrmin.tumblr.com/writing


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